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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Tales of lonely trails"

He was almost in the top of the tree and far out
from the trunk. No wild cat or lynx could ever surprise him there! I
reflected upon the instinct that governed him to protect his life so
cunningly. Safe he was from all but man and gun!
When I came to aim at him with the rifle I found that I could see
only a blur of sights. Other branches and the tip of a very high pine
adjoining made a dark background. I changed my position, working
around to where the background was all open sky. It proved to be
better. By putting the sights against this open sky I could faintly
see the front sight through the blurred ring. It was a good long shot
even for daylight, and I had a rifle I knew nothing about. But all the
difficulty only made a keener zest. Just then I heard Romer cry out
excitedly, and then R.C. spoke distinctly. Far more careless than that
they began to break twigs under their feet. The gobbler grew uneasy.
How he stretched out his long neck! He heard them below. I called out
low and sharp: "Stand still! Be quiet!" Then I looked again through
the blurred peep-sight until I caught the front sight against the open
sky. This done I moved the rifle over until I had the sight aligned
against the dark shape. Straining my eyes I held hard--then fired. The
big dark lump on the branch changed shape, and fell, to alight with a
sounding thump.


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